Page 9 of A Broody Mate for the Human

He still beat us up, and you weren’t able to surface for days.I tell him, reminding him of the fateful day when our father found out that we aren’t normal. It was only three days after I met Dash, so we didn’t have a tight connection yet, which made it so much more difficult to heal from our father’s attack.

We don’t need to mate with Dave,Dash mutters.But he is our mate… don’t you want to see him?

Fuck the mate bond, I curse. Do I want to see Dave? My initial reaction would be to screamno, but then I think of his brown eyes, his sweet scent of oranges and cocoa, and the beautiful curve of his lips.

He is an incredibly beautiful man.

Fuck it. I need to put an end to it before Dash or I feel too attached to him. It’s just sick. We can’t be with him. I’m sure that once we meet, we will see how different we are and that we just don’t belong to each other.

Maybe it will be easier than to stay away.

When I step inside the coffee shop, his scent hits me immediately. My eyes trail around until I find him sitting at a cosy table in the corner of the shop and skimming through his phone.

This is such a shitty idea, but better get it over with. I hope no one I know sees me meeting with a human guy.

“Hey,” I mutter while approaching him in a lackluster way.

“Hello, Matthew.” Dave beams at me. “You’re late.” He grins. “I was scared you’d ditch me.”

Honestly, I wanted to, but I promised Dash to come. I shrug, not answering him. He can think whatever he wants to think.

The fact that I didn’t even apologize seems to take the wind out of his sail because, for a moment, he looks worried and a bit hurt. He recovers fast though, and takes the menu, going through some of the ridiculous coffee choices.

“I like the Tarzan coffee.” He chuckles. “They add chocolate sprinkles to it. And it’s one of my favorite Disney movies.”

“Because of the half-naked dude?” I ask, frowning a bit.

“No,” Dave stutters. “Because of the soundtrack. Do you like any Disney movies?”

“Cartoons and animated movies are for little kids and girls,” I point out.

Dave stares at me. “Okay,” he mutters. Silence engulfs us until the waitress comes to take our orders. Dave goes for his ridiculous Tarzan frappuccino while I just order black coffee.

“What do you like then?” Dave asks. “Any movies you enjoy?”

“Just a few action flicks,” I say. “But I don’t watch much TV anyways.”

“Then what else do you do in your free time?”

“I like to train and spar,” I point out.

Dave nods and looks at me expectantly, like he is waiting for me to continue. When I don’t say anything, he blinks. “Oh, that’s all?”

The audacity! Who is he to judge? At least I’m not some pathetic fag, watching Disney movies and drinking sparkly sweet milkshakes. I bet when he is in a bar he orders some ridiculous pink cocktails as well. Why does he have to be so freaking gay? “What do you like?” I ask in return.

“Oh, I like movies. I read a lot. I like to go clubbing with friends… and I enjoy watching ballet and—”

I snort. “You’re kidding me? You’re into dance!?”

“Yes,” he blinks, confused. “One of my best friends is a professional dancer. He is doing contemporary dances.”

This coffee date was probably the worst idea ever. If it weren’t for Dash, who is surprisingly relaxed at the moment, I would have gotten up and left. I rub over my head. “I don’t get why a guy likes such things, let alone does them,” I point out. “Who even dances? Men should have different hobbies.”

“Like sparring?” Dave asks in a bland voice.

I shrug. “Or cars.”

“Wow…” Dave says.